


hard lessons (sometimes pay off)

by hlundqvists



Series: taking care of the boys [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: D/s relationship, Dildos, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, New York Rangers, Spanking, sex tears, slight humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The thought of what he’s going to have to face from Hank makes his stomach drop, his heart stutter in his chest.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He knows that punishment is coming his way and for the first time, he isn’t looking forward to the pain.</i>
</p><p> or, Johnny takes a stupid suspension again and he gets punished for it in a not so nice manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jess asked for Hank punishing Johnny with a dildo and making him cry after he got kicked out of the game and subsequent suspension and this is what my imagination made happen.
> 
> Please be warned that there are hints at non/dub con in this so if that is triggering for you, please steer clear of this.

He sits in the locker room for the rest of the game, feeling guilt and very much like an idiot. He’s mostly quiet, only exchanging a few words now and then with Kreider as they watch the game play out on the television. They should be excited as the team pulls together in the third period and takes the win but Kreider isn’t as energetic as he usually is and Johnny just wants to leave.

He doesn’t want to face the harsh words that will be thrown his way by AV or see the looks that will be given to him by his teammates.

Most of all, though, Johnny doesn’t want to see the anger burning in Hank’s eyes that was present during intermission.

The thought of what he’s going to have to face from Hank makes his stomach drop, his heart stutter in his chest.

He knows that punishment is coming his way and for the first time, he isn’t looking forward to the pain.

//

The text comes in at one in the morning. Johnny is still awake when his phone vibrates on the night stand.

The message is short and he knows that there is no way of saying no. Not tonight.

_I don’t care if you’re tired. I am coming over in a half hour. Be clean and showered._

Johnny’s fingers shake a little as he texts back a hasty, _yes, sir_ , before going to the bathroom.

He already showered before but that doesn’t matter.

He’s not going to disobey an order from Hank.

//

His hair is still wet, clinging to his forehead when the knock sounds loud and harsh through his apartment. Johnny walks over to the door slowly, nerves overwhelming him as he pulls it open to reveal Hank.

“Hey.”

Hank doesn’t smile.

“Hey? Is that how you’re going to greet me?”

Johnny swallows, shaking his head, a few droplets of water falling and hitting the floor.

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

Hank pushes his way past Johnny into the apartment, leaving Johnny standing in the doorway and feeling numb already.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

Johnny pulls himself back from his thoughts, closing the door.

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so. Come here.”

Johnny starts to walk to Hank, but he’s stopped mid-step by Hank raising a hand.

“No. On your hands and knees. Crawl over here.”

The command shouldn’t make a flush of arousal spread down Johnny’s chest but it does. He drops down to the floor, hands and knees braced against the hardwood and starts to crawl his way over to Hank. It’s uncomfortable but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He doesn’t deserve to complain tonight.

Once he reaches Hank, he sits back and gazes up, waiting for the next order to come.

There’s a pause and Hank’s expression falters slightly, making Johnny’s breath catch in his throat but the moment quickly passes and Hank looks cold in the eyes as he presses a thumb against Johnny’s bottom lip hard.

“Go to the bed. Stay on your hands and knees.”

Johnny nods, lowering himself back down, palms pressed flat to the floor and crawls to his bedroom. He feels ashamed in this position and he knows that Hank knows that. He has the feeling that Hank can read it in the way Johnny has his shoulders hunched slightly, head hanging down as he moves across the floor. The hardwood digs at his knees, making them ache lightly but it’s nothing that he can’t push through and he does.

Getting to the bed brings a small amount of relief on his body. The comforter soft and soothing under him and he wants to flop down on it, melt into the softness and warmth but he doesn’t. Hank told him to stay on his hands and knees. So he does.

“So you _can_ obey rules. Imagine that.”

Johnny doesn’t let himself turn to look at Hank. He doesn’t have permission.

“Yes, sir.”

“Funny. You obey the rules just fine in the bedroom. I wonder where that obedience goes when you’re on the ice.”

The words sting, hitting Johnny hard in the gut and he draws in a sharp breath.

“I don’t know, sir.”

He’s not expecting to be touched so soon or so hard, but the moment he gives the answer, Hank’s hand comes down hard across his ass. It makes him jolt and nearly lose balance.

“Figure it out, John.”

There’s no soothing ceremony to the way Hank leans over the bed and yanks Johnny’s pants down, the fabric pooling near Jonny’s knees. His ass is bare, goose bumps rising over his skin from the light chill in the air.

This time when the slap comes, Johnny is expecting it. He’s braced for it and only lets out a tiny grunt at the contact.

“You know you’re getting suspended for that hit, don’t you?”

Another slap to his ass is given. Harder this time.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Are you _happy_ to have done this to the team?”

“N-no, sir. I’m not.”

Hank slaps his ass again, hard and fast. He doesn’t stop until Johnny is sure that his ass must be bright red. It stings and makes Johnny whimper, his fingers curling against the bedspread for some purchase and comfort.

The smacks finally stop, Hank pressing his palm flat against the small of Johnny’s back to rub small circles. It’s probably the only small bit of comforting touch that Johnny will receive tonight.

“You do know that I’m not done with you. Correct?”

Johnny nods, letting out a broken noise of confirmation.

“I need to hear you say it, John.”

Hank slides his hand down over the curve of Johnny’s hip, fingers digging against his stomach. The touch spreads a fire up Johnny’s body, makes him arch back a little and _fuck_ , his ass stings so bad but he wants more from Hank. He always wants more.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

Hank keeps moving his hand, fingers brushing lightly over the head of Johnny’s cock and it isn’t until then that Johnny realizes that during the spanking, he got _hard_.

Fuck.

“I k-know, sir.”

Hank pinches the tip of Johnny’s dick between his forefinger and thumb, eliciting a harsh yelp from Johnny.

“You know _what_?”

Johnny draws in a shaky breath.

“That you’re not done with me, sir.”

The answer is sufficient enough to make Hank take his hand away and Johnny tries to control his sob of relief.

“Stay on your hands and knees. I don’t want you to move. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hank runs his hands down over Johnny’s ass slowly. It burns, Johnny’s skin still sensitive and aching but he stays still, trying to ignore the dull twinge of pleasure that he gets from the sensation. He doesn’t know what Hank has planned for him tonight, doesn’t know how severe the punishment is going to be.

He gets a vague idea when Hank places a bag onto the bed that Johnny hadn’t even noticed he brought with him. The sight of it makes Johnny suck in a quick breath, body tensing.

Hank clicks his tongue, fingers tapping against Johnny’s hip.

“Now, now. You don’t want to do that. Relax or it’ll just make this harder on you.”

“Hank, I—“

“Excuse me?”

Hank’s tone is biting as he zips open the bag, reaching inside slowly.

“ _ **Sir**_. I’m not—I can’t—“

Hank just smiles, leaning over to kiss Johnny’s hip.

“Oh, I think you can.”

Johnny shivers, clenching tightly to the bed beneath him.

“But I’m—“

Hank cuts him off. “You’re not going to be playing for at least a week. You will take what I give you or it will just get worse.”

Johnny closes his mouth, doesn’t protest any further. He watches as Hank takes an all-too-familiar toy out of the bag and places it on the bed next to Johnny. The dildo isn’t _overly_ huge but it’s…. big. It’s more than what Johnny normally takes and Hank only ever uses it when he wants to get a point across to Johnny, when he wants Johnny to remember and feel the lesson for _days_.

Seeing it makes Johnny whimper in fear and slight anticipation.

Hank smiles with one corner of his mouth, taking a bottle of lube out from the bag too.

“You remember this one, don’t you?”

Johnny nods, shakily.

“Yes, sir. I d-do.”

“Do you want it tonight?”

Johnny shakes his head, eyes wide.

“No, sir. N-no, I don’t.”

Hank opens the lube, gets some on his fingers and drizzles a little unceremoniously onto Johnny’s ass. The cold of the lube hits his aching skin hard and makes him hiss.

“Why don’t you want it tonight?”

Johnny tries to speak and give an answer, hoping that it’ll be enough to sway Hank from using the toy on him tonight but the moment that he starts to speak, Hank presses two fingers hard into him and all that comes out of his throat is a pained cry.

Hank hums, working his fingers into Johnny deep and crooking them. It’s too much, too fast but Johnny can’t help from moaning, his dick twitching at the touch.

“That’s what I thought.”

Johnny whimpers and Hank works his fingers faster, scissoring Johnny open just the bare minimum before adding a third finger and it’s still feeling like too much but Hank has made it clear that he doesn’t care. Tonight isn’t about Johnny’s pleasure, but it’s also not about Hank’s.

Tonight is about teaching Johnny a lesson, punishing him for a stupid decision and it’s working.

All too soon, Hank pulls his fingers out and Johnny knows what is coming next and he doesn’t want it. A panic starts to swell in his chest and he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Hank.

“Please d-don’t. I’m not r-ready for it, sir. I’m not.”

Hank ignores him, picking up the dildo and slicks some lube over it.

Johnny exhales shakily. He could move, get off his hands and knees and just roll off the bed but he’s stuck in place by Hank’s command from earlier to stay put. He whimpers loudly, trying to plead with Hank through facial expressions.

Hank just shakes his head and kneels on the edge of the bed, pushing the tip of the toy against Johnny’s opening with one hand, reaching around with his other to stroke Johnny’s cock lightly.

“I don’t care what words come out of your mouth, boy. You’re taking this and you’re going to come with this in your ass.”

Johnny starts to protest again, and again he’s cut off by Hank taking charge and pressing the toy into him quickly.

The air is knocked from Johnny’s lungs, his knees buckling slightly and hands nearly giving out under him as Hank just keeps pushing and pushing the dildo in further and further. The stretch of it hurts, it makes Johnny _sob_ and beg for Hank to stop but they both know that stopping isn’t what Johnny truly wants. Not with the way his hips are canting back already.

“There you go. You take it so well, pretty boy.”

Johnny chokes on a moan, whimpering and Hank starts to move the toy, thrusting it in and out at a fast and rough pace. There’s a burn from the way Johnny’s being stretched that doesn’t go away and it adds to the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He tries to fight if off, tries to keep himself in check but then Hank pushes the toy in deeper and harder than before and Johnny loses it; the tears break free and once they start, they don’t stop.

He shudders and sobs, hips rocking back in an attempt to match Hank’s rhythm but he just can’t get it right.

“That’s right, John. You’re just going to take what I give you. Take it all and remember that if you pull shit again like you did today, that it’s going to be _worse_ next time. Do you want that?”

Johnny sobs out a broken, _n-no sir_ , and it seems to appease some of the anger that Hank had been holding onto because the next thing Johnny feels is Hank wrapping a hand around his dick and stroking him softly.

It’s such a difference from the way Hank is thrusting the toy hard and fast into Johnny’s ass and Johnny doesn’t think he can hold on much longer. He’s sobbing uncontrollably now, face blotchy and red as he just takes what Hank is giving to him.

“There you go. There you go, John. Are you close, hm? Are you going to come when I tell you to?”

Johnny sobs out brokenly, words beyond his reach now.

“I want you to come now. Do you hear me, John? Come _**now**_.”

Hank twists his hand just right, thumb swiping hard over the tip of Johnny’s dick and that’s it. Johnny falls over the edge, his orgasm rushing through his body hard and fast and he spills all over Hank’s hand, clenching around the toy still in his ass.

Hank doesn’t stop stroking him, doesn’t stop thrusting the dildo into him and Johnny can’t keep himself up anymore. He collapses onto the bed, shaking and crying and trying to squirm away.

“P-please, please, s-stop. Sir, p-please, it’s t-too much.”

The hand that Hank had had around Johnny’s cock is now being pressed to the small of Johnny’s back, holding him down to keep him in place.

“No. You’re young. You can take this. I know you can. You’re going to come again.”

Johnny presses his face to the bed, muffling his sobs against the blankets. He can’t fight this off, can’t get away from Hank and a part of him just doesn’t want to get away. He knows that if he cries out ‘yellow’, this will all end. But he doesn’t. He just keeps sobbing and lets Hank keep thrusting the toy into him.

Hank keeps the pace fast, adding a bit more lube to help the dildo slide faster and Johnny just takes it. He whines and sobs and starts to rock his hips up again and before he knows what’s happening, another orgasm rushes over him and he cries out harshly with it. It’s a mostly dry orgasm; there’s not much left in him now.

“Good boy. There you go. That’s a good boy.”

He hardly feels it when Hank eases the toy out, body still shaking minutely with sobs.

//

He’s not sure if he falls asleep or just passes out for a while, but when he opens his eyes, Hank is standing by the doorway and confusion washes over him because how could Hank be rubbing a cool washcloth over him when he’s all the way over on the other side of the room?

“He’s awake.”

The washcloth is taken away and Johnny whines slightly. It felt so nice and he wants that back.

Hank comes over to the bed, reaching out to gently run his fingers over Johnny’s cheek.

“You were so good, Johnny. I’m proud of you.”

A swell of pride fills Johnny’s chest and he manages a sleepy smile.

“Thank you.”

Hank smiles slightly, but he looks troubled and Johnny suddenly wonders why Hank isn’t in the bed with him to rub his back and pet his hair.

“I’m going home now, okay? Marty is going to take care of you for the rest of the night.”

Marty? Marty is—Oh. /Oh/.

Now Johnny realizes who is in the bed next to him and he turns his head to peer over at Marty who looks a bit out of his element here.

“Hey…”

Marty smiles a little, reaching out hesitantly to run his fingers through Johnny’s hair.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Johnny melts a bit from the touch and reaches out with one hand, wanting Marty closer.

Marty complies, moving over and Johnny tucks his face against Marty’s neck, eyes closing as Hank issues out a few instructions.

“Just make sure he drinks and eats. Touch him, if he wants it. He’ll tell you if something hurts or if he doesn’t like anything you do.”

“Alright. I think I can handle it.”

“If you need anything, just text me. If I don’t answer and it’s urgent, text Marc.”

Marty runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair, lightly rubbing his scalp and it just feels so good and Johnny is turning into mush that he doesn’t hear the rest of Hank and Marty’s conversation or realize that Hank has left until a few minutes later.

“Johnny?”

“Mmf.”

“ _Johnny_.”

Marty’s voice is firmer this time and Johnny lifts his head.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Johnny pauses, unsure of how to answer. Marty seems to sense his uncertainty and tips his chin up with a finger to kiss him lightly, sweetly.

“You don’t have to answer, okay? I’m going to take care of you now. I promise.”

Johnny tries to hold himself back from clutching tightly to Marty, tries to hold the tears back but it’s useless. He can’t keep them in, can’t hide his need to feel safe and protected and Marty……

Marty gives him what he needs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't let this part go without writing an addition of Hank going home to Marc in the aftermath of Johnny's. So, here you go.

Marc is waiting for Hank when he gets home, sitting up on the couch and skimming through a magazine while the news is muted on the television. He doesn’t have to say anything to let Marc know that he’s back; the sound of the door closing is enough to draw Marc’s attention.

He toes off his shoes, puts the bag he took to Johnny’s down on the floor and walks over to the couch, not speaking. It’s unusual for Hank to feel this shaken after being with one of his boys, but tonight was one of those times when it just didn’t feel completely right.

He doesn’t speak, just looks at Marc with an expression of uncertainty. Marc understands immediately; gets up from the couch and comes around the back to stand in front of Hank and reaches out, pulling Hank close.

Hank falls in love with Marc a little bit more in that moment. Marc always knows what to do; he understands Hank in a way that no one else does and he always reaches out when Hank won’t. 

It’s easier then for Hank to let his walls drop down because Marc initiated this, Marc reached out and pulled him in first, and it feels more natural than scary for Hank to just curl his arms tight around Marc and clutch on tightly. He drops his head to Marc’s neck, eyes closed, and just _breathes_ in. 

Marc smells like his shampoo, like his bed and his cologne. Marc smells like _**his**_ and it helps ground him even as he lets out a shaky breath, body starting to shudder with all the emotion he’s been repressing since leaving Johnny’s. 

"Hey," Marc’s voice is soft, lips pressed to Hank’s hair. "Hey, it’s okay. Hank, it’s okay." He runs a hand slowly over Hank’s back, stroking over his spine lightly before pressing his palm flat, rubbing circles up and down. Hank shudders more, tightening his arms around Marc and Marc increases the pressure of his hand on Hank’s back.

"Hank, oh, Hank. Do you know how lucky we all are to have you? We’re so lucky, and you’re so amazing. So good. I love you so much, Hank. You know that. I love you so much and I’ve got you. It’s okay."

It’s pretty much impossible for Hank to hold himself together when Marc is holding him like this and is saying these words that he needs to hear without having to ask to hear them. Marc knows him more than anyone. Marc just always _knows_. 

He lets out a broken noise, pressing his face further against the crease of Marc’s neck and shoulder.

"I hurt him," he murmurs the words in a scared tone, clutching at the back of Marc’s shirt. "I hurt Johnny."

It seems almost instinctual the way that Marc tightens his arms around Hank further, pulling him impossibly closer. “Did he want it? Is that what he needed tonight?”

"I… I think so," Hank doesn’t pull away, keeps his face pressed to Marc’s neck. "I called Marty. I asked— I asked him to take care of Johnny. I couldn’t….. I couldn’t do it myself." Saying the words out loud make him feel guiltier, almost like a failure. He couldn’t take care of one of his boys properly, so what does that make him?

There’s a sudden weight on his head and he realizes that Marc has slide a hand up into his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. 

"It’s okay that you left, Hank. You didn’t leave him alone. Marty is a good choice. He’s steady. He’ll take care of Johnny. I know he will. You know he will."

Hank makes a soft noise, not protesting but not agreeing either.

"You’re not failing him by not being there. It’s…. knowing limits and taking care of yourself _and_ him. That is what makes you good at this, that’s why we’re all lucky to have you. You know limits, Hank, and you respect them.”

Marc’s words cause Hank to go quiet, his body shaking a bit more. He just holds on to Marc, keeps clutching to the one thing that anchors him best in this world and Marc doesn’t push; just keeps stroking Hank’s hair and pressing kisses to Hank’s temple.

"Can we—" Hank starts, then stops. His voice sounding weak. He clears his throat and tries again. "Can we go to bed now?"

He doesn’t ask, _can I touch you_ or _can I make you come on my fingers_ , like he means to; the arousal from taking Johnny apart still lingering. He leaves it open ended, giving Marc the chance to say no, not tonight.

There’s no hesitation on Marc’s part. Hank doesn’t know why he was expecting any. Marc pulls back just enough to kiss Hank, soft and slow, then takes a step back, hands running over Hank’s back.

They take one step, then another, and another. Marc gently leading Hank to the bedroom.

Marc’s knees hit the edge of the bed and Hank kisses him again, firmer now with more clear intent to it. Marc goes pliant, giving up the control so easily and Hank feels his chest clench at the action.

He cups Marc’s cheeks in his hands, resting his forehead against Marc’s.

"I love you so much."

Marc smiles, murmurs back, “I know”, and then Hank pushes him down onto the bed.

There’s no rushed pace to the way Hank touches Marc, no hurried commands or impatient tugging off of clothing. Hank takes his time, straddling Marc and kisses him slowly, licking into his mouth while skimming fingers over his sides.

"You’re so beautiful, Marc. You’re beautiful and I love you and— I’m yours. I’m yours, Marc."

Marc makes a content noise, brushing his fingers over Hank’s cheek. “I know. _I know_.”

They kiss until there’s no air left in their lungs and still don’t want to part. Hank sliding his hands under Marc’s shirt, pulling it off and kissing along Marc’s chest lightly. His teeth graze over Marc’s nipples in turn, giving each a gentle bite which elicits a hissing moan from Marc.

Hank keeps moving down, lips trailing over Marc’s skin. He hooks his fingers under the top of Marc’s pants, pulling them and his boxers down, leaning back to tug them off and toss them onto the floor.

"So beautiful." Hank murmurs, leaning down to kiss Marc’s hip.

Marc shifts a little, fingers running over Hank’s shoulders. “All yours.”

Hank nips his hip, then turns to kiss the head of his cock. 

"Yes, all mine."

He gives a few small licks to Marc’s cock, smiling at the gasping noises Marc makes with each motion. As much as he wants to draw this out — take Marc apart slowly until he shakes and sobs — he doesn’t have the patience. He licks at Marc’s cock again before moving off the bed, stripping off his clothes and grabs the lube from the nightstand.

Marc reaches for him, letting out a content sigh when their bodies press together. Hank rocks his hips down, rubbing his dick against Marc’s and they groan together, laughing softly before kissing fast and hard. 

Blindly, Hank opens the lube and gets some on his fingers as he fucks into Marc’s mouth with his tongue. He reaches down, running his fingers over Marc’s hole before pressing a finger in. The way Marc’s breath hitches against his lips is delectable and Hank wants him to make that sound again.

He adds a second finger not long after the first, pressing them in deep and fast, crooking them to hit that spot to make Marc gasp and moan out Hank’s name like a prayer. Bending his head down, Hank bites down on Marc’s nipple, tongue lapping over it while thrusting his fingers in and out at a fast pace. It doesn’t take long for Marc to start begging, clawing at Hank’s back with desperate fingers.

"Hank, H-Hank, _please_.”

Hank doesn’t slow the pace of his fingers, twisting them and scissoring slowly.

"Please what, Marc?"

Marc sobs, hips rocking to fuck himself down on Hank’s fingers. 

"Fuck me, please, fuck, _sir, please fuck me_.”

There’s no way for Hank to resist, not now. 

He pulls his fingers out, enjoying the whimper Marc makes, and grabs the lube again, slicking his cock up, then presses between Marc’s legs. He teases for a moment, rubbing the head of his cock against Marc’s hole.

"H- _Hank_.”

Marc sounds so broken already and Hank leans down to kiss him, biting at the softness of his bottom lip while pressing inside. He growls low in his throat, unable to stop it. Marc feels so good around his dick; always so tight and warm, no matter how many times Hank has been inside him.

He taps Marc on the hip with two fingers.

"Up. Come on. Around my waist, Marc."

Marc obeys, hooking his legs over Hank’s hips, allowing Hank to slide in further. It always feels amazing, incredible beyond words to be inside Marc. It feels a lot like finding himself to Hank, like he’s coming home and knows who he is, where he is.

Marc is more grounding than anything. Nothing — _nothing_ — can ever make Hank feel the way that Marc does. He loves Marc so much. So, so very much.

"I know, Hank. I know. Oh, god, I know. I love you, too." Marc is babbling against Hank’s lips, making Hank realize that he’s been saying all his thoughts out loud. He kisses Marc soundly, rocking his hips a little and absorbs the moans from Marc.

"Love you, Marc. Love you, ah, so much."

Hank digs his hands against Marc’s hips, starting to fuck into him in earnest now. Marc clings to him, sobbing out moans and whimpers and Hank loves it, loves him so much. He loves being the one to take Marc apart like this.

"Want to feel you come on my dick, baby. Can you do that for me?"

He bites down on Marc’s earlobe, then licks the spot to soothe it. Marc whines out loudly as Hank thrusts into him hard, fucking him down against the mattress.

"Yes, yes, _yes_ , oh, fuck, Hank.”

The noises coming from Marc are all the encouragement Hank needs, making him thrust in harder and deeper, working a hand around to wrap around Marc’s cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts.

Marc’s body grows tenser, flush spreading down his chest and makes a choked-off noise. Hank knows he’s close and fucks into him faster, gasping with it and presses his thumb along the underside of Marc’s cock.

That’s all it takes.

Marc comes with a shout, hands grabbing at Hank’s shoulders, fingernails digging hard into his skin. Hank hisses and keeps stroking Marc through his orgasm, milking every drop out of him.

"H…. _Hank_.”

Marc grabs at the back of Hank’s neck, yanking him down for a kiss; it’s rough, bruising and when Marc digs his teeth against Hank’s bottom lip, Hank falls apart. He thrusts in deep once more, coming with a groan inside Marc.

He drops his head down to Marc’s shoulder, tongue running over his bottom lip and tastes blood where Marc had bit him. The coppery taste makes him groan a little, dropping his weight down onto Marc.

Marc doesn’t protest. Hank must be crushing him, but he doesn’t push Hank away or ask him to move. He runs his fingers through Hank’s hair, down to the top of his spine, just holds Hank close and tight.

"I love you."

The words are pressed into Hank’s hair. Marc’s voice only a little shaky, slightly breathless still.

Hank smiles. It’s small, barely there, but it’s there nonetheless.

"I love you, too."

He rolls over, pulling Marc with him and lets Marc situate himself until he’s comfortable on top of Hank. Marc nuzzles lazily against Hank’s neck, leaving soft kisses here and there.

"Mm."

Hank kisses the top of Marc’s head, resting a hand on the small of his back.

"Yeah. Mm."

They should probably get up, go shower, and change the sheets on the bed. Neither one wants to move, though. Hank isn’t willing to let go of Marc, and Marc seems intent on staying latched to Hank.

They really _should_ at least wash themselves off and once Hank is ready to urge Marc out of bed, he realizes that Marc has fallen asleep; breathing softly and evenly against his neck.

He knows that Marc will make faces in the morning at the combination of dried sweat and come sticking them together, but he can’t wake Marc up. Not when he feels like he’s finally done something _right_ this night.

So Hank just closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of Marc breathing, willing himself to fall asleep too.

He’s close to it when his phone buzzes against the nightstand. He reaches for it, glancing at the screen and sees he has a text from Marty. He unlocks his phone, careful not to jostle Marc and wake him, and reads over the text.

It’s short and to the point, just like everything Marty does.

_John is okay. Sleeping now._

Hank smiles a little and texts Marty back with an ‘ _okay, thank you_ ’.

He doesn’t get a reply. Not that he was expecting one.

He shuts his phone off, puts it back on the nightstand, and presses his nose into Marc’s hair.

Sleep comes a lot easier, then.

//

Hank doesn’t get a good chance to talk to Johnny again until it’s Johnny’s second game back. They’re playing AVs, the first period still just barely underway. 

Johnny is close by when a stoppage of play happens and Hank takes advantage of the moment. He reaches out, tugs Johnny close and ducks his head, bumping his helmet against Johnny’s.

"I’m glad you’re back. We need you out here."

Johnny’s eyes brighten a little, a smile tugging at his lips and he nudges Hank gently.

"Glad to be back, sir. I promise to make you proud."

Hank smiles and pushes Johnny away.

"I know you will."

Johnny seems lighter somehow, skating off as if there’s been a weight lifted from his shoulders.

Hank takes the moment before play resumes to glance over at the bench, searching for Marc and smiles when he catches Marc’s eye.

Marc nods at him, smiling and Hank feels lighter, too.

Everything is back in balance again, the way it should be.

They’re all going to be fine.


End file.
